


Soft kitty, warm kitty

by Never laugh at a live Sherlock (smaugholmeswatson)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Cat Sherlock Holmes, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Long-Suffering John, Randomness, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-06 23:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaugholmeswatson/pseuds/Never%20laugh%20at%20a%20live%20Sherlock
Summary: A late night fic written when I probably should have been asleep.Sherlock is a tiny rusty spotted cat shape-shifter (Google them- they are freaking adorable!!) and poor John has to cope with the chaos he has caused.Please enjoy. This one is going to be random and is probably a reaction to the angst of 'I will always find you' with my brain telling me I need to lighten up a little.





	Soft kitty, warm kitty

Five in the morning is never a good time to be woken up by something small and fluffy padding across your face and scratching lightly at your ear. John let out a groan and rolled onto his side, not prepared to wake up just yet. He'd had a long day yesterday and was not planning to get out of bed until at least nine. 

As John rolled over there was a meow of protest and a small golden cat covered with black spots tumbled onto the matress where it lay on its back for a moment. Then it leapt back to its feet and scrambled back up the duvet so it could could dig it's claws into John's shoulder. "John!" The cat said in a surprisingly deep voice for its tiny size, "John, I'm hungry!" It never had understood why humans needed so much sleep. It was amazing they ever got anything done. 

Realising there was no way he would be getting any more sleep John opened his eyes and reached over to switch on his bedside light. "You can't possibly be hungry Sherlock. It's-" He paused and glanced over at the clock on his bedside table, "Jesus, Sherlock. It's only just gone five." He said, gently lifting the cat up with one hand and tickling it beneath the chin. He was still getting used to having a shape-shifter for a flat mate. 

Sherlock purred contentedly and licked at John's fingers with his rough little tongue. In cat form Sherlock was tiny and just about big enough to fit in the palm of John's hand, but somehow, despite his diminutive size, he managed to be twice as annoying. "Oh, but John..." He whined with a pleading expression in his blue and unsettling human looking eyes. The eyes are a good way of figuring out if something is a shape-shifter or just an animal- well that and the fact that ordinary animals can not normally talk. 

John resisted getting up for a few more seconds but finally gave in to the 'please feed me' look Sherlock was giving him. Not even the coldest hearted person could ignore that look for long. Letting out a heavy sigh John cradled Sherlock to his cheat so he wouldn't drop him and threw back the covers. The detective was one of the strangest shape-shifters he had ever come across and could only shift between forms when he had enough energy. Which meant he often got trapped whenever he was feeling sleepy or hungry. This in turn then meant John had the displeasure of having to care for him. Sometimes he thought to himself that an actual pet would be less work then Sherlock was at times. 

John yawned. Thank god he had remembered to put pyjamas on last night. Then he headed down the corridor towards the permanently cluttered kitchen which was usually full of equipment from Sherlock's latest experiment. Today was no exception and John had to move several racks of test-tubes before he had someone to put Sherlock down, the detective telling him the whole time not to disturb anything because the experiment was at a very delicate point (in Sherlock speak this meant it was liable to explode if jostled too much). 

Once this was done John grabbed a tin of tuna from the cupboard and set it down beside Sherlock while he searched for the tin opener that had apparently gone missing again. Sherlock let out a quiet meow of frustration and batted at the tin with a paw the size of one of John's fingernails. "John." He whined, already growing bored of being stuck in cat form. It was surprisingly dull. 

John laughed and smiled fondly down at him. Well at least he couldn't say wasn't interesting. He had wanted excitement after leaving the army and he had definitely found that in the form of Sherlock Holmes. Sure at first he'd been a little worried about sharing a flat with a shape-shifter, but it had turned out to be one of the best decisions he had ever made. Tin opener located John opened the can and laid it in front of Sherlock who dug in with enthusiasm. He barely reacted when John stroked the soft fur on the top of the head. 

"Hey Sherlock, isn't your brother coming round today?" John said, suddenly remembering a text he had received the day before. 

Sherlock snorted quietly, not sounding entirely pleased. Pushing the empty can away from him he began licking his paws and delicately cleaning his whiskers. "He didn't say he definitely would; just that he might pop round at some point." He said in answer. 

Which was amazingly unhelpful and meant John wouldn't be able to leave the flat all day. "Oh really, well that's great." He said, his tone suggesting he wasn't all that pleased. That was one good thing when Sherlock was in cat form. He lacked most of his powers of deduction so John was able to get away with his sarcastic comments. "If I go have a shower can you manage to stay out of trouble for a hour?" Since he was up and awake he might as well get ready for the day ahead. 

Sherlock blinked rapidly, offended John would even suggest such a thing. He had only torn the curtains down once by accident while trying to climb them and he hadn't done anything else since then. "Of course I can. I hardly ever get into trouble." (which most certainly wasn't true. Trouble seemed to follow Sherlock where ever he went), He replied, baring his tiny sharp teeth in a smile. 

Still John hesitated. He had a horrible feeling something was going to happen... but on the other hand he did really need a shower. In the end he settled for an ultimatum, "I'm trusting you Sherlock" before he headed for the bathroom. 

* * * * 

As it turned out he was right to be worried. An hour later, right on schedule, John walked into the living room hoping to find everything as he left it. His hopes were quickly dashed when he found Sherlock curled up in the midst of a scene of utter chaos. The only difference was that the detective was now in human form, though he was still in possession of a tail and a pair of fluffy ears which pricked up when he heard John enter the room. He turned towards him with an alarmingly satisfied looking grin on his face. 

"I got rid of the bird for you, John." He announced smugly, expecting the human to be pleased with him for what he had done. 

John frowned at the mess of paper, upturned furniture, floating feathers and other random objects scattered haphazardly around Sherlock. He should have known something like this would happen. He really should learn to stop turning his back on the shape-shifter. "What bird, Sherlock?" He asked in a resigned sounding voice. 

"The one that flew in the open window." Sherlock replied as he pointed at the window in question. "I know you don't like them in the flat so I chased it out again for you." 

He looked so pleased with himself John didn't have the heart to remain angry at him. Instead he reached behind him and pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa, throwing it over Sherlock in an attempt to try and make him somewhat decent. John sighed. He had wanted an exciting life when he left the army. It just went to show you should be extremely careful what you wished for! 


End file.
